


Guinevere

by fromGallifreytoGallitep (sykira)



Series: Season Four Remix [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, kirashir, missing scene: s4e01+02 Way of the Warrior, perfect-gentleman!Julian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 23:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21328222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sykira/pseuds/fromGallifreytoGallitep
Summary: Missing scene fic that picks up where this scene leaves off in "Way of the Warrior" (4x1) as beautifully capped by atumblr post by Apolsen
Relationships: Jadzia Dax & Kira Nerys, Julian Bashir & Kira Nerys
Series: Season Four Remix [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538515
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Guinevere

**Author's Note:**

> More "perfect-gentleman!Julian" fluff. This is my favorite genre to write, but it doesn't work as well for me with Jadzia/Julian so much because he was crushing on her and pursuing her for the first few seasons, so when he steps in to be her knight in shining armor it doesn't feel quite as pure in intention.
> 
> But when it's Kira he rescues it reads as kinda prelude to Bashir/Kira - bail now if that's not your thing!
> 
> Per episode transcripts (http://www.chakoteya.net/DS9/473.htm) here is the dialogue from the preceding scene:  
KIRA [Off Camera]: Well, you saw how he was acting.  
DAX [Off Camera]: I can't believe you did that.  
(Kira and Dax come down the stairs dressed as medieval ladies.)  
KIRA: He didn't leave me any choice.  
BASHIR: Wait, wait, wait. What did she do?  
DAX: She knocked out Lancelot.  
KIRA: He kissed me.  
DAX: He's supposed to kiss you.  
KIRA: But I was playing a married woman.  
_(Bashir and O'Brien are laughing, Bashir trying to hide his smile behind his hand.)_  
BASHIR: Lieutenant Commander Worf, this is Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax, and Major Kira Nerys, our first officer.  
WORF: Nice hat.  
KIRA: (pulling the wimple off) I don't usually dress like this. We were in the holosuite.  
WORF: So I gathered. You used to be Curzon Dax.  
DAX: That's right. And I don't usually dress like this either.  
WORF: Curzon's name is an honoured one among my people.  
DAX: Louk, a jeek cHim talaw. _(trans. Yes, but I'm a lot better looking than he was.)_  
WORF: I suppose so.  
DREX: Bloodwine! And hurry!  
(Morn makes a discreet exit.)  
WORF: Excuse me.  
KIRA: What did you say to him?  
DAX: It loses something in the translation.  
DREX: This bloodwine is cold! Get me another one!  
WORF: You are Drex, son of Martok.  
DREX: That's right.  
WORF: I am Worf, son of Mogh.  
(And punches Drex in the face. Drex draws his dagger but misses every thrust and ends up on his back. Worf takes Drex's dagger and snarls at his companions, who back off.)  
DAX: He's good.  
O'BRIEN: What did I tell you?

In the midst of the hubbub of Quark’s bar, Julian’s attention kept returning to Major Kira. She was fiddling with her Lady Guinevere hat, and was it his imagination or was acting slightly…jumpy?

O’Brien and Dax paid them no mind, they were both still caught up with the arrival of the new Klingon lieutenant commander. Miles leaned in to Jadzia as her eyes drifted back to Deep Space Nine’s newest senior officer, as Worf ordered a blood wine from Quark.

“Smitten, are we?” Miles smirked.

Julian shared a smile with Kira as Miles waggled his eyebrows at Dax.

She punched him half-heartedly in the arm. “Shut up. Aren’t you two gentlemen going to offer us lovely ladies a drink?” She repeated her coquettish half-curtsey from before. 

O’Brien snorted. “Aye, you’re not heading back to the knights of the round table then?” he tipped his head in Kira’s direction.

_Not if I have anything to do with it, _Bashir thought to himself, moving so he was slightly behind Kira, noting her eyebrows knit together at O’Brien’s suggestion. Julian put one arm up as if to escort her although he stopped short of touching her. He guided them to a table further back from the bar.

“Hmm, yeah, about that,” Dax whirled on Nerys just as she was gathering her skirts to lower herself into a chair Julian was holding out for her. 

“We need to discuss how holodecks work, Nerys.” Jadzia made to take the chair beside her but Bashir angled himself between the two women, holding out a different chair for Dax and sliding into the seat beside Kira himself. 

He held up a hand to forestall the rest of Dax’s rant just as O’Brien cut her off with a conciliatory “Hey now! Leave poor Guinevere alone, she’s just had some randy knight trying to get in her corsetry!”

Beside him, Kira tensed. Julian frowned, glancing at Miles. He was hoping for an ally, but beyond the attempt to deflect Dax’s anger the chief was already mostly in his cups. He sat down on the other side of Kira, signaling to Quark and seeming to not notice that Jadzia had resumed her rant as she sat directly across from Kira.

“Do you know how hard you must have hit him to knock him out cold like that?!” Her head of steam was apparently not close to cooling off anytime soon.

Nerys’s shoulders raised defensively and she dropped her eyes. “I told you, he tried—”

She didn’t get to finish before Dax was off again, and Julian’s chest clenched at how much more muted Kira sounded now, her previous indignation undercut by everyone’s laughter no doubt, and Dax’s unending tirade.

“…or maybe just grasp the simple concept of fiction and storytelling, and just letting go and _relaxing _for an evening next time and not _ruining _it for everybody—”

“DAX!” Julian exploded, bringing her up short.

Dax, Kira, and Miles stared at him. The area around them fell quiet and heads turned. 

His voiced dropped so that only his companions could hear him now. There was steel in his tone as he leaned across the table.

“Perhaps, if there’s to be a ‘next time’, you could try explaining the backstory of the sexual assault themed folklore to your non-human holodeck companions, so they can be prepared when the supposed _hero_ suddenly tries to force himself on her, hmm?”

Jadzia opened her mouth, and then closed it again as she processed his words. She bit her lip.

“Nerys,” she said softly, her gaze flitting to her. “He’s right, Nerys, I’m sorry.”

Kira was staring at the young doctor, stunned. She took a moment to find her voice and wrench her gaze away from Julian. “It’s okay,” she mumbled with an embarrassed hand wave.

“Well..." Miles patted Kira’s hand a little awkwardly. "I don’t know about you, but I definitely need a drink now! Barkeep!” He squeezed her shoulder as he got up and went to the bar.

“Yes. Drinks. Let’s get black-out drunk and pretend Dax didn’t just make a complete ass of herself?” Jadzia offered a hopeful half-smile at Kira and Bashir. They smiled back, Nerys with one of her trademark grins. 

Julian could see how it made Jadzia relax—she was forgiven. He felt safe enough to leave the two women alone together for a moment once he saw Miles struggling to balance four whiskey tumblers. He hopped up to help him, loitering for just a beat around their table to catch Dax lowering her voice to the most concerned he had ever heard her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Nerys? I could kick myself for not thinking it through, it was just supposed to be fun, I didn’t think, can you forgive me?”

Kira covered Dax’s hand where it had gripped her own and squeezed it warmly. “Nothing to forgive, my friend.”

Julian stepped forward and caught two of the tumblers just before they escaped Miles’s clammy grasp.

“Aye, good man, good man there, Julian. Bloody Mr. Hand-eye-coordinashun, showing us all up, eh?” He winked at the doctor who ignored his good-natured teasing as usual.

He had barely set the glasses down before Jadzia grabbed one and tossed it back, causing more than a few men in the vicinity to give her a whoop as she drained it.

Julian paused, a bemused smile on his face. “Do I need to go back to the bar for more then?!” He held out the other glass to Kira, who sniffed it and made a face.

O’Brien shook his head. “Nah, I told Quark to bring the bottle, he’ll be by in a jiffy. Take a load off lad, before these women drink us under the table.”

“I don’t know,” said Jadzia, pulling herself upright on the bar stool. “Few more of those and I propose we all charge back in the holosuite and defend Nerys’s honor.”

“Aye aye!” crowed O’Brien.

“Let’s just forget it.” Kira nursed her whiskey close to her chest.

“Drink up, lass, you’ll be leading the expedition in no time.”

Kira smiled and took a sip before crinkling her forehead. “It’s no spring wine!”

“I’s no a’that, that’s scotch, lassie, that’s the good stuff! Put hair on your chest that will!”

Miles’s excited gestures were threatening to overwhelm his limited sense of balance now he had several scotches under his belt, and Julian gently guided him to sit down before he fell down.

“Am I drunk already or is he talking funny?” Jadzia was only slightly slurring her words.

“It’s ma Scottish brogue, as we’re drinking scotch ‘n all.” He held up a finger. “I’m going to need a hair o’ the dog afore I have to take apart mah beloved dart board and repair what your new beau has done to it with his Klingon manly display of strength! Now there’s a man who needs a stout drrrrink.”

Quark popped up between them, whiskey bottle in hand, and Miles greeted him with a lilting “Och aye tha nooo!” 

Quark rolled his eyes and took a nimble step back, shaking his head as Miles and Dax began fighting over who got the first refill while she simultaneously tried to argue that Worf was _not_ her new beau.

Julian took advantage of their momentary distraction to lean in slightly to the major. “_Are_ you okay? I know we made light of it earlier, but if you need—”

She turned to him and her hand on his leg cut his words off completely. It was little more than a gentle skim just above his knee, but he couldn’t think of a time when Kira had ever before initiated any kind of intimate contact with him. Curls of heat formed under his skin where she touched him and for a moment Julian was so taken aback he forgot to breathe.

“I’m okay.” She was looking at him with unabashed genuine gratitude. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet but heartfelt. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she really _had_ been genuinely upset, but his actions had touched her enough that she would step outside her comfort zone with him for the first time.

“I’m glad,” he managed quietly when he could find his voice again. He caught her hand as she withdrew it, holding her very lightly, just enough (he hoped) to be reassuring. To his vast relief she didn’t flinch or immediately retract her hand, allowing the reciprocation of intimacy. He hoped she couldn’t tell that his hand wasn’t entirely steady. When Dax and O’Brien turned the conversation back to them she gave his hand a brief squeeze under the table.

He cleared his throat and tried to sit up straighter when she removed her hand and pulled away. His mind was reeling and he hadn't realized until that moment just how much it meant to him that after all this time, somewhere along the way she had come to trust him.

He had an absurd urge to reach across under the table and bring her hand back to hold in his, but managed to stop himself – it would be wholly inappropriate, and the last thing she needed on the heels of some holosuite lothario putting the moves on her. Shaking his head at himself he took a generous drink of the scotch, blinking a few times at the bitter taste.

Dax zoned back in on her. “You’re not drinking, Kira, we gotta show these boys how it’s done!”

Julian leaned over to her. “You, uh, you want me to see if Quark has synthale or spring wine? This stuff is very strong.”

Kira grinned impishly. “What are you trying to say, doctor? I can’t hold my liquor like a Human or Trill?”

He opened his mouth to retort but she tossed the amber liquid back in her throat as Dax had done, only to sputter and cough a moment later, her eyes watering as Julian and Miles patted her back.

“Ok, so maybe I will need you to wheel me back to my quarters on a stretcher or something,” she gasped, merriment in her eyes. Her wide smile was infectious and he found himself grinning back.

Dax and Miles were laughing loudly, then banging their tumblers on the table before knocking back more whiskey themselves, not to be outdone.

Quark stopped by their table again, gesturing to the Trill and the Irishman, as he leaned over to Kira. 

“Major, look at you, dressed like a princess, sipping that Human swill as if it was anything other than putrefying root vegetables – you’re far too good for the likes of these, you ever need me to rescue you from these uncouth drunkards, you let your Uncle Quark—”

Kira rolled her eyes. Julian cut in. “Guinevere is a queen, actually, Quark. And she doesn’t need rescuing.” _Not by you, anyway._

Quark abandoned his apparently heartfelt attempt to woo Kira with a shrug, turning on Julian instead. “And I suppose you are going to protect the lady’s honor this evening, our young doctor?”

Kira huffed out a laugh. “Actually, Quark, he already has!” Her smile grew even wider at Quark’s expression of disgust as the Ferengi threw his glass-polishing towel over his shoulder and stomped away from them.

Julian couldn’t hide his pleased smile. It wasn’t every day you get told you defended a lady’s honor and he found he rather liked the idea.

Kira nudged him with her elbow and he turned to her attentively, trying to rein in his beaming grin. She was looking at her drink skeptically. “_Is_ it fermented root vegetables?”

Bashir’s smile grew fond again. “No, that’s vodka Quark’s thinking of, you should allow me to mix you a vodka martini sometime…sometime when we _don’t_ have an ops meeting at 0800 the next morning.” 

She quirked her lips at that. Then they both glanced towards the sound of raised voices. A Klingon was giving Quark a hard time about his blood wine and Morn was beating a hasty retreat. 

Julian waited until he had Kira’s attention again. “Whiskey,” he continued, watching her lips as she took another sip, “is distilled from fermented grains, like barley, wheat, rye and corn. It’s extremely intoxicating served neat like this, usually there’s ice or soda water and some kind of mixer, like fruit juice, so you don’t get inebriated quite so fast.”

“Maybe if I was a little _inebriated_ I wouldn’t keep disappointing Dax with this holosuite stuff. This is the second time now.” Kira’s eyes had drifted away from his. She was watching Jadzia and Miles, who were focused on Worf again. 

He frowned. “The second time?”

“She took me for massages at the Trill Hobeeshian baths…except she was the only one who got the massage.”

“The Hobeeshian baths? Were everyone’s half-naked and…” He broke off as he thought better about voicing aloud what he knew people got up to at the actual Hobeeshian baths, hopefully Dax’s holo version was tamer. “Were the masseuses at least female?”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?” She tried for another sip of whiskey and grimaced. “Woah, this stuff is strong.”

“Kira, have you had dinner?”

“Um…” She looked to the side trying to remember. “I don’t think so.”

“Let’s order you something. You don’t want to drink whiskey on an empty stomach.”

She waved a hand at him, and he was just about to argue with her when he noticed Miles and Dax had fallen silent. He followed their gaze to where Worf took a swing at a burly Klingon at the bar.

Moving as one, the senior staff got to their feet. Julian braced himself for an all-out melee—these were Klingons after all, Klingons who had been drinking, and they had seriously injured Garak just the night before. He glanced down to make sure Kira was steady on her feet if they were about to get dragged into combat. Then just as quickly as it had started, their new Lieutenant Commander put an end to it, flooring the Klingon he had been fighting in such a decisive manner the whole of Quark’s clientele were staring at him.

Kira and Julian shared a look, then joined Dax in moving towards the crowd, back on duty once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. As always, I am very open to critique! (And I just about live for comments!)  
I do know there's not so much time that elapses in canon (as in this fic) before Worf starts fighting with the Klingon at the bar, but I took creative liberties because if not for Klingon violence this fic would have been an interminable h/c fluff fest all night long!
> 
> This scene in the episode always slightly disturbed me, especially Dax’s (canon) condemnation and annoyance with Kira for hitting Lancelot when he kissed her, and how it was played for laughs - much as that was par for the course in the nineties. I want Bashir or O’Brien to step in and rescue Kira here, when they’ve swallowed their affectionate laughter, because they are more able than Jadzia to step outside their cultural context and see it from Kira’s POV, that without knowing the story and historical background of this Earth folklore she was effectively unexpectedly sexually assaulted in character and needs gentleness instead of Dax's fierce approbation and men's laughter, and someone to acknowledge that it was wrong, that she was right to defend herself.


End file.
